Third chapter. Woohoo... And you didn't have to wait half a year for this one. Go me...
Actually, I had to split this chapter in two, so I could manage it a bit better. This is the first half as I have to tweak the second one for a bit. It's mostly OC concentrated, with just a dash of recognizable characters, squeezed between paragraphs. I'm sorry if the plot is moving too slow for your liking and the lack of actual BL characters because of that.
Oh who am I kidding, there is only one person who actually reads this fic XD
(^3^)
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There is a merit to stealth. To be like Batman. Invisible until last moment, delivering crackdown and disappearing without a trace, leaving everyone wondering what happened. That was their preferred method originally.
Or, you can go full Juggernaut route, which simetimes they were pushed to do.
And then there is...
...
Alexej Prochazka dropped the butt of his cigarette on the ground before, stomping it out. He fixed his CZ2000 into defferent position as the belt it was hanging on was starting to chaff his neck. Basically, any movement was a welcome change and much needed distraction after hours of standing guard. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Dominik – his current partner in guard duty, was having similiar problems, fidgeting slightly and trying to find more comfortable position for his own weapon.
That's why, when he heard the distant sound of the engine and soon got a glimpse of light coming towards them through the hidden road in the forest, first and foremost he felt a wave of relief for some change in rutine. Only a second after that a common sense kicked in.
"Hey, are we expecting someone?" He asked his partner.
"Not to my knowledge." Dominik answered already pulling out a radio. "I'll contact Jelen."
...
In a building serving as barracks, in a room filled wth monitors a radio receiever come to life, and Dominik's voice sounded in.
"Diesel, do we have a transport or guests sheduled? Cause someone's coming."
Ladislav "Diesel" Jelen, was the highest ranking officer currently remaining on the grounds. Despite this, no one caled him "Sir" or "Boss", since those were reserved for one person only, but he would prefer if his subordinates maintaned at least some modicum of formalcy when adressing him, and dropped the damn nickname. However his personal preferences went forgoten as his mood switched to high alert, literally from zero to hundred.
"No one's supposed to show up." He answered, looking towards the monitor, corresponding to main gate camera and silently cursing when the angle wouldn't quite catch the incoming vehicle yet.
"The front camera is angled bad. Marcel was supposed to fix that." He forgot to release the speak button when he mumbled how he's gonna skin the idiot, but no one commented on that, before he spoke again.
"Tell me what you see."
"Seems to be a... bike." Domink had to squint his eyes as the singular light that was coming towards them, was conviniently offending his optical nerves. "Makes a hell lotta noice for a bike though... Wait. Shit!"
The vehicle, that barrelled on the driveway and into the light of front gate reflectors, revealed itself to be a bit beaten up, tarp covered green military truck with it's lights off... And a large, high powered torchlight ducttaped in the middle of the hood.
There is a time for checking your facts. Making sure you don't misjudge the situation and do something stupid at unappropriate moment, that will ruin all your future plans.
But when a military car with dented grill, bullet marks, and blood stains covering whole front, droped out in their doorstep just days after they started losing contact with their field agents one after another AND when Kola himself, passed words from the Boss to be on lookout for a pair of interlopers in a very specific truck, even low class, hired goons like Dominik and Alexej knew... It was not that time.
...
"It's those fuckers!"
Ladislav heard and saw Dominik scream his last report, before he dropped the radio and opened fire along with Alexej. On the monitors, Diesel could see how the truck swerved sharply at full speed, ramming side ways at the front gate. Solid, steel construction held strong against heavy metal assault, but Alexej who didn't manage to follow Dominik's footsteps and jump away in time, ended up partially on the other side of the gate.
Do you know how egg cutter works? Alexej does now.
...
Dominik avoided becoming a humanitarian salad ingredient by jumping aside and landing in front of a truck. To his credit, as he layed on his back, he stayed composed enough to aim at the windshield, as the truck got momentarily immobilized by the impact. However before he pulled the trigger, he changed his mind. A pair of parabellum bullets getting intimate with one's brain have that effect on people.
Strzyga holstered her PM-84 back, before looking at her grumpy partner at the rear.
"I told you it's a perfect camouflage." She declared with a shit eating grin.
And then there is, whatever the hell that was.
...
The smell of oil wafted through the air, as Dutch run maintenance of Lagoon. With Benny trying to catch up on sleep he was losing lately, and Rock and Revy somewhere in town, he had a moment of privacy for his baby, and he needed to think. His conversation with Eda, left him with few new questions and uneasy feeling...
"Burning bodies?" Dutch asked sipping his drink.
"That's the most likely explanation, don't you think?" Eda answered with a question of her own, as she refilled her glass.
"In 'Nam people burned so often that stench became unforgetable" Dutch countered. "This stink doesn't resemble it."
Eda grunted in exasperation at even someone like Dutch missing the obvious. "It's a fish factory. They don't have to burn bodies alone. They just dump whatever else they find into incinerator. Rotting fish are plenty and mask smell enough if even you can't recognize it."
Dutch hummed before responding "Fine. Let's go with that. What do you think is the point?"
"That... I'm trying to figure out." Eda edmitted, sounding tired. "The homeless are going missing at much higher rate. Almost as if they were hunted down. The most obvious answer would be organ harvesting but..."
"But bums and hobos aren't known for having their insides in exactly marketable condition right? But maybe they go for quantity. There are bound to be some good organs among that numbers."
Dutch answer cause Eda snort in annoyance. "When you treat organ harvesting like a rapid strip mining, you end up with depleted resource and heaps of merchandise with quick expiration rate. Unless they have a buyer already, they risk all the wares going to waste. It's counter productive to bussines. It makes no sense."
The black man ignited a cigarette and inhaled deeply in thought.
"There is always a slave market. Cheap whores and expendable labour force does not require high maintanance."
"That could be..." The CIA nun agreed "But it doesn't explain why so damn many and up in the oven. They would still need to ship someone, but the crematories seems to work ceaselessly lately. Though that can be credited to to Italians and Columbians." She surmised. "They have been making some deals with Snakes recently. Mainly handed over whoever they wanted disposed of, but who exactly pays who in that deal is still murky." Eda huffed, downing another glass.
"So, a strange egg landed on our front lawn, but we have no choice but to wait for it to hatch and hope it's not a fucking xenomorph." Dutch summed up while finishing a cig and pouring himself another glass.
"Amen to that."
That still didn't told Dutch about the newcomers themselves. All that meant was that his company should stay on guard. If the... Snakes as Eda called them, are already doing buissness with two of the Big Four in the city, than can mean tremors in current balance. If Ronnie ''The Jaws'' and Columbians intend to use the new player on the field, to gain edge over Russians and Triads, they should be vary to not end up in a crossfire. And they shouldn't dismiss the Snakes agenda either. Their deals with two out of four rulers of Roanapur means they already have a foothold here. Pretty quickly for relatively fresh blood in town. On the other hand, client is a client. If they want something shipped, his baby will be up to the task.
...
Jelen wasted no time to see the outcome of the encounter on the screen. Before the intruder's car even peeled away itself from the metal bars, he was already screaming through all channels. "Everyone to the main gate! Boss wants those kokotov dead! Don't let them escape!" (Slavak: Dicks)
And soon enough a small stampede run out of barracks, while at the same time, garage door opened and three jeeps emerged, ready to chase the already beaten up and apparently retreating truck. Truck that was rolling away suspiciously slowly.
The gate apparently rattled a bit from being hit, jammed a little as it opened, delaying the gangsters' cars as footsoldiers reached the bars first and immidietly opened fire, riddling the tarp with bullets. Unable to see the target hidden behind tent-like flaps, they made up for it with the sheer amount of lead sent the enemies' way. The hail of gunshots only stopping when the truck did to. And for a few seconds, the only sound and movement came from screeching gate making passage.
The gate finally opened enough for the first car to go through, with a second and third right behind and they did so slowly, as to not run over their own troops. They parted in front of the vehicles like the sea before Moses.
Too bad the Lord wasn't with them.
Just as the lead vehicle passed the gate, three things happened at once (or with about half a second delay between if you're anal retentive). First, the tarp covering of the truck, shook and the flaps moved violently as if hit by a gust of wind from the inside. Roughly at the same time, first jeep and front of the second were obliterated, while two gangsters at the back seat of the second car had their various body parts smashed against windshield of the third one. Lastly, Jelen lost the feed from two cameras at the gate, one turned towards the driveway that was stuck at inconvinient angle (because Marcel was supposed to fix it!) and the other directed at the parking lot behind the gate. Neither was spared from the shrapnel, leaving Ladislav in the dark about the outcome.
Footsoldiers fared no better, as those who weren't instantly pulverized by proximity of the blast, were now laying sprawled and moaning, as if someone animated pieces of tenderized meat and spiced them with chunks of metal and glass.
And all the king's horses and all the king's men, wouldn't be able to put together the body parts that flied all the way from the drive way to the lawn.
Not that they would get the chance.
The distinctive sound of AK – 47 drowned the screams and moans, with a few short series putting an end to a grim spectactle, as the tall man in black tactical gear jumped out of the truck, with russian machine gun still hot in his hands and no visible scratch on his body.
The ballistic shield left in the car on the other hand, would make a curious wall ornament though.
Strzyga soon joined his side with an off hand comment. "The Bearded One will probably chew your ass for that Komar. They don't produce them anymore you know?"
"Life's little sacrifices." He muttered in response, as he reached back in the car and pulled out a large duffel bag and a smaller one for his partner. When it was securely hanging with the strap across his chest, he tossed a short: "Let's go."
Since the gateway was now blocked by the wreckege, there was no way to get around with a car. That meant, they had to cross the path to the main building on foot. However when they got about eight feet from the smoldering piece of junk, a hail of bullets forced them on the ground and crawl for cover. Which they found behind the disfiguret piece of metal that was once a jeep.
"SMGs of varying types." Strzyga quickly informed, somehow able to discern from sound alone. Her companion didn't question how. She simply new and they got used to that.
"Convinient for drive-by shooting. Must be the crew from the last car. Their infantry was packing mostly LMGs." The man murmured in response.
Quick peek from behind their cover confirmed that the last jeep was now standing sideways, and the driver and three passangeres were trying to gun them down from behind it.
"Well..." Black clad man sighted, reaching for the side arm in his hip holster. "Shooting gallery time."
Surprisingly however, he was stopped by his partner.
"Wait." She said unceremoniously reaching to his belt... And taking one of the grenades, pulling the pin almost immidietly.
"Been a while since I had physics class..." She commented while weighing the explosive in her palm "but taking into account the weight, the gravity, the wind, earth movement, solar radiation and prices of lard in China, it should go somewhat like... This." She stated, while tossing the grenade over her shoulder with almost casual flick of hand.
...
"What the hell happened there?!" Jelen's voice was screaming throm the CB radio. Covered by his companion's gunfire, the driver reached inside the jeep and pulled out the microphone. Catching the pause between his superior's frantic shouts, he managed a response.
"Everyone but me and three boys is dead. We got hit by a..."
The black object sailing in gentle ark, against black sky background is not something you can easly spot, especially if you don't actively look for it. Therefore there was no shouts, screams or curses, as little ball of death thrown with downright machine like precision, delivered it's lethal bloom amidst the gangsters huddled behind their vehicle, before even touching the ground. Bastards had literally no idea what hit them.
...
When the sound of explosion reached them, black and white duo stood up, no longer concerned about being shot. Wierd as she was, Strzyga knew her shit.
"Show off." The man half jokingly commented, at which his partner chuckled in response.
"Hey, you don't have a monopoly for blowing things up."
They passed the second ruined jeep, and only when they reached the third one, the young woman moaned in dismay. And as you can guess it had nothing to do with mangled corpses behind it.
"We should have go with your idea." Strzyga bemoened at the sight of shredded tires. "I could really use a car if they have any one else in reserve."
...
Jelen stared blankly at the radio, when the transmission was suddenly lost, before tuning to specific frequency.
"Hornick... Do we have anyone else?" He managed, sounding surprisingly calm. He was probably too shell shocked to freak out.
His answer came as the burly man himself barged into the monitoring room.
"What do you mean by 'anyone else'? What happened? I heard explosions." He asked sounding none too pleased.
Citrad Hornick, while a step lower in command chain than Jelen, was directly responsible for management of troops, as the only one with any military background still remaining around and had annoying habit of actually caring about his grunts, beyond handing paychecks on time.
Jelen's mood wasn't any better and it showed in his voice once she shaken off the stupor. "I've heard them too. As for what the hell happened? I have no vision, no contact and no idea. The feed is dead and no one is responding. Hell, even the "Vlci" gave no signs of life"
For a moment Hornick stared grimly at the snowing screens, then focusing on the feed from cameras placed on high poles, each in the corner of the rectangular fence surrounding the estate. Two of them were covering the front lawn and parking lot of the mansion – an imposing, three story building befitting Bruce Wayne - and two more granted vision of the backyard. Eventually he asked: "Can you angle the front cameras towards the gate?"
"They don't go that far" - Diesel responded, slowly regaining composure and tapping on the console – "But I'll see if we get something"
Second later, the scene shown on screens started moving, until...
The image failed to reach the gate, just as Jelen predicted, but it managed to show two people standing next to damaged jeep... And four mangled corpses. While the white dressed one was leaning over the car door and manipulating something on the dash board, the other was looking around... And apparently even the gentle movement of camera managed to catch his attention, as he glared directly at the lense. Split second later, Big Brother's eye has been blinded by a shot from his side arm. Jelen and Hornick, had enough time to see the figure in car jerk up, revealing much slender silhuette, before the camera in another corner was shot down as well, leaving them completly in the dark for the estate's front.
...
"Ochujałeś? (Polish: Untranslatable, but it involves dick and questioning ones sanity) Don't scare me like that." Strzyga complained while smacking her partner in the back of the head, causing the man to growl in response.
"We have no time for you to mess around. What were you even trying to do?"
"Get us some music of course. It's kinda dull here." Came the flippant answer, earning her a disaproving snort.
...
"Who the hell are those guys?" Hornick asked slightly dumbfounded.
"No idea really." The acting comanding officer admited dejectedly. "They busted one of our smaller outposts, and Kola passed down order to eliminate them post haste, mentioning they may put up some fight. Nothing..." He hissed swinging his arm in an arc towards the – now useless – monitors. "Suggested this!"
The troops manager stayed silent, face frowning, deeply in thought. Did they really grown so placid with the easy work they had? They operated mostly by bribes and blackmail. They had field agents, they had suppression/assasin teams across the world for those few cops that came sniffing too close, rare disgruntled client, or that one lucky prey that slipped through their network. Their only opposition came in the form of poorly organized gangs that had no idea who they messed with, or an desperate escapee trying to break free by force. They rarely went against a single person able to afford an full-auto.
Their superior numbers and equipement came simply as a statement of "because we can" than actual necessity. All this time, they've been shooting fishes in a barrel and then suddenly someone comes to them up front and hits them hard. The self appointed titan has been wounded and had no idea how to react on the first blood it shed.
Coming back to reality, Hornick realized he need to give his superior some answer. If only to stop him from making some rash decisions on his own.
"I've send everyone who was on standby. We have thirty people pulled out of bed and getting ready, and a dozen of Vlci as main house security plus a janitor."
Hornick responded in a low tone, before adding grimly "Problem is, I don't really have an authority over the squad guarding the house. They are supposed to be elite of our forces answering only to Kola and Boss above him. While Boss took most of those guys with him as a personal entourage, those that remained, are just doing as they please and could've just ignored you. But why would they ignore the expolsion? And don't even get me start on Mishka. Only Boss himself can order around that fucking ork."
"Why do we even keep him?"
"He can handle disposal of the bodies and keep the house clean. All for pitty penny." Hornick said matter-of-factly.
"We wasted enough time. Those two are now in open field and no longer have element of surprise. Send everyone we have left and just waste those fuckers." Jelen switched back to commanding tone and was mildly surprised when Hornick let out and exasperated groan.
In all truth, Citrad just felt as if he has to deal with a moron. He wisely chose to not voice that thought, instead coming out with annoyed explanation "Have you seen that guy taking down those cameras? No aiming, single bullet each. And in case you weren't paying attention he's wearing tactical gear and at least two firearms. One he used for camera and a Kalashnikov and that's what I could see. Those are not some noisy cops and no local gangbangers. Whoever they are, they have bite to match their bark. We send our guys straight at them, and at least half of them will be gunned down the moment they exit the building. Even if we could overwhelm them with numbers, I'm not losing my men in such stupid way. No. Instead, we'll send the troops through secret passage to main house basement. They'll check in with Vlci and some will take position on the roof. They'll give us vision. Our uninvited guests no doubt will not stop on our front lawn and will try to storm the house, for whatever reason. There we will have advantage of terrain and we still have the cameras onthe first floor and in few half floor points. We can hunt them there. If the intruders will try to retreat, the roof team will take them out." With a plan outlined, Hornick felt better. They were getting back some control over the situation.
...
While Roanapur was a sity of sin, crime, grime and every alcohol imaginable, it wouldn't be much of a city without some milder ventures besides pubs and bars. Take for example the little, cozy cafe where at one of the tables, a certain Japanese ex-office drone was nursing a cup of coffe. He certainly have seen better days, with blood shot eyes and his usually immaculately combed hair, now in slightl disarray. Whenever the door opened he tossed almost panicked glance towards the entrance, expecting a loud, angry and temperamental gunwoman to burst in any second.
He did not expected another familiar face however.
"Lotton? Lotton the Wizard?"
Hearing his name the blond, goofy and not exactly competent bounty-hunter turned his gaze to spot one of the more sane members of Lagoon Company.
"Rock?" He asked likwise surprised to see the man away from his group's usual watering hole in Yellow Flag.
Ordering a glass of milk, he took seat opposite of the negotiator. "Didn't expected to see you here. Quite a way out of your usual route."
"That's the point." Rock groaned. "I'm avoiding Revy. She couldn't get much sleep due to the smell so she kept dragging me to drink. I don't mind getting hammered once in a while, but even my liver needs a break." He said hanging his head tiredly. "What about you?"
"Ah, I'm actually quite a regular here. I need to make myself scarce, once or twice a month if I want to keep my head if you catch my drift." The "Wizard" answered making Rock cringe at the implication. "And this little place is quiet and out of sight. A perfect shelter for a stormy days to pass."
"Today as well?" Rock inquired. He may have been more tactful if not for the pounding in his head.
"Uhh... No." Lotton answered as if pondering if he should touch the topic but apparently seeing no harm, he explained. "It's actually for similiar reasons as Miss Revy's sleeping troubles. Because of the crematory."
"Crematory?" That got Rock's attention.
"Yeah. The old fish factory has been repurposed for bodies disposal." Explained the self proclaimed abstinent. "Italians and Columbians are sending their opposition there. At least that's the word among Triads according to Miss Shenhua."
"Huh? I' must have been out of the loop more than I thought." Rock facepalmed with a groan. "It's all Revy's fault." He complained, but continued right away. "Anyway. How does it tie with you being here today?"
Lotton released heavy sight of a man who has to carry burdens of the world on his shoulders. "Since that new group appeared with their services, Miss Sawyer has been moody. It's not really that she lacks bussiness, since she is Mister Chang's go-to person, but still... Her pride as a Roanapur's number one cleaner took a hit. She looks like she's ready to go on one-woman war against the new guys, but stays realistic about the odds. So she has a lot of frustration and not enough meat to vent it on. I decided it would be wise, to stay out of her sight for a while..."
Rock nodded in understanding. It would be hard for him to forget a petite goth woman, swinging a chainsaw. What was with this town and stupidly lethal females anyway?
...
"It's too quiet." Commented man, looking around tensly. If he had fur it would be standing on his back right now.
"I wanted to get some music, but radio's busted." Came the 'Well-it's-obvious' reply from the ghost like woman.
"Urrh! Not in that sense." Groned the darker half on monochrome duo. "No more movement from enemy. Shouldn't they have more people guarding their supposed headquarters?"
"Maybe we actually killed them all and only head honcho himself is cowering under his bed now?" Strzyga interjected optimistically with a grin that would look cute on someone who didn't make appointments with shark's dentist.
"Or they wisened up to trying zerg rush and changed tactics." Aaand it crashed againt the rock of scepticism. "But we can't second guess now. I'm entering. But I have a favour to ask." He said, motioning towards the smaller building. "I think this served as barracks. Do you think you can investigate it? You don't have to infiltrate the interior. Just try to garner if they have more troops or anything really."
"Kurwa proszę..." (Polish: Bitch please) Strzyga narrowed her eyes as her grin streched further, turning predatory and much more fitting for her fang filled maw. "Who do you think you're talking to?"
At that, her partner gave his own smile in return. It was the first actual smile he had shown since their escapade started. It was surprisingly gentle expression on his usually serious or angered face.
Strzyga hoped to God, that whatever chemical they used to bleach her skin can hide the damn blushes.
She was torn out of her sudden schoolgirl flashback, by her companion speaking again.
"Hey. Do you still have that laser sight for my gun that you borrowed?"
"Yeah I do." She answered a bit surprised, but pulling the accesory from her own bag anyway. "Do you actually need it?"
The response 'In case I need to distract a pet tiger' was not what she expected, but she laughed anyway.
"Who would keep a... Oh..." And then she cringed inadvertently. There was this one time in Okinawa...
Their government never let them anywhere near Japan ever again after this.
After pressing the handle, the door predictible turned out to be closed. Well, good thing that our tall, dark and grumpy hero had a multipurpose key.
Pretty much every cop, fireman or soldier will tell you, that no, you can't open a four inches thick, oaken, double door with a boot lockpick.
Well none of them were this guy.
The first kick, shook the entrance like battering ram. By the second, cracks were heard. The third released splinters. By the fifth, the obstacle flung wide open and the assailant burst in, AK - 47 at the ready.
He was however, greeted by silence.
Not lowering his guard (or the gun for the matter) he took a step forward before Strzyga's voice from behind stopped him.
"Chochoł!"
He turned to see that his partner actually had a worried expression. "Don't die."
He opened mouth to answer, but she cut him to the chace with a follow up.
"You still owe me a new stash of drugs! You wasted all of them on that guy you turned into a cold buffet!"
If he was a manga character, he would have a huge sweatdrop on his head right now. Without even dignifying that with a response, he moved deeper into the mansion.
...
That's it. The second part, whenever I'm done with editing.
Despite my best efforts I can't catapult to Roanapur immidietly, since all the pieces are taking slow to move in position and the only action at the moment is taking place away from everyone's favourite/hated sin city.
To sum it up. Strzyga and her pal continue their crusade and things still stink in Roanapur. Now just a notch more. The next chapter will have Revy. That I can promise.
Also those two and their team were in Japan once on a mission. There was a tiger involved. Things were not pretty. It shall never be spoken about again XD
And just a little trivia:
RPG - 76 "Komar" - One shot weapon created as an alternative for RPG - 7. It can only fire once but it's smaller, lighter and carrying few of them can create faster fire rate than reloading RPG - 7. Can be fired from a building or a vehicle, thanks to a back blast reducing design. No longer produced.
Chochoł (Read as Hohou) - A name given to a folk tale spirit, that could be best described as Cousin It made out of straw. Relatively harmless, but when insulted, may hex people.
